


Side Stories

by theSilentium



Series: The Bad Batch and their Bad Luck [3]
Category: Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: Family Fluff, Fun banter, Multi, Sibling Bonding, Territorial dudes, Testosterone level through the roof
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-12
Updated: 2021-02-14
Packaged: 2021-03-12 14:02:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 9,974
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29386005
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theSilentium/pseuds/theSilentium
Summary: After their second trip on Fors, the Bad Batch and their new pilot settle down and learn to live with a female on board.
Relationships: Crosshair (Star Wars: The Bad Batch)/Reader, Hunter (Star Wars: The Bad Batch)/Reader
Series: The Bad Batch and their Bad Luck [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2158683
Kudos: 20





	1. A Story of Shirts

**Author's Note:**

> Reader’s native language is *roll drum* French! Really original, I know! Translations will be at the end of the chapter ~

“You gonna eat that?” Wrecker asked from your right, his chubby pointer finger signaling to your half-eaten piece of bread. 

“Yeah.” You confirmed, taking more of the ration pack, reaching for the bread to illustrate. 

“Too bad.” He stole the piece before you got a hold of it, hurrying to stuff it in his mouth as soon as you reached forward to take it back. 

“Wreck! It was mine!” You whined, hitting his shoulder multiple times in retaliation. 

“Cut it out.” Hunter called from his spot on the other side of the fire, shooting the both of you an unimpressed glance over his water canteen. 

“But he-!” You cut yourself, not wanting to pout like a baby, instead taking a deep breath in and planning your revenge like a petulant child. 

You’ve been with the Batchers for a good year, flying them around different systems, perfecting your flying skills as well as developing some basic medical ones to help them when needed. 

So far, no one from the GAR noticed that you were a fraud among the army, letting you enough time to read about the GAR and become more familiar with the whole system and chain of command. You had now all the knowledge necessary to keep the lie going without a hitch. Hell, even Cody never connected the dots. 

Over time the relationships between you and each of the boys improved to the point where Wrecker would call you his _vod'ika_ and you’d call him your _frangin_. 

Tech exploited his extended knowledge to gain a serious advantage over his brothers once a month. He would generously share his secret stash of candies with you whenever the first day of your period started (you were sure he did that to stay in your good favors and keep your irritation away from himself - which was working, fortunately for him). 

Crosshair would share some of his precious secrets blackmails so you could use them when the others were being annoying shits and kindly taught you how to properly shoot with blasters so you could defend yourself better.

Hunter used you as his personal enhanced senses painkiller, meaning that he’d requisition you for an hour when his head felt like it was on the verge of exploding from overstimulation, sit on the floor facing you, lean his head on your chest and listen to you singing a soft lullaby in your native tongue. 

Out of the corner of your eyes, you noticed Wrecker getting up from his seat on the ground beside you to get to the ship, passing right behind you to get to his destination. Swiftly, you straightened your hand, turned around and pushed the back of his knee forward to bend it with ease. 

Smirking, you admired your handy work when Wrecker yelped in surprise that his knee just gave up underneath him and crashed to the ground. 

You laughed wholeheartedly, covering Crosshair’s snickers who watched you the whole time because he knew you’d serve his brother a good payback for taking your precious food. 

“You want to fight _vod'ika_?” Wrecker asked jokingly from his kneeled position a few feet away. 

“Bring it on _frangin_!” You replied, pushing your dry rations down your throat with a big gulp of water. That was something else that took some time to get used to. Tasteless water meant good water. Don’t spit the good water. 

“Here we go again.” Sighed Tech, rolling his eyes at banter. 

“Don’t be a grinch, Tech. That’s Crosshair’s role.” You flicked his shoulder and ignored Cross glare to get up and meet the big man who instantly went to poke your side. 

He’d learned his lesson a while ago when he punched your shoulder playfully and let you a gigantic bruise on your skin that lasted for weeks. Hunter genuinely thought that he’d hit you hard (he did, but Wrecker was excited, so you weren’t mad) leading to the ‘no hitting your teammates’ rule. Wrecker felt bad for a while but soon you got him to cheer up and instead of fake fights, you’d do poking fights. 

Jumping to the side, you moved your foot behind his knee to repeat your previous trick, effectively making him fall on one knee and pushed him on his back with all your strength. 

As soon as he was on his back you poked his stomach, not too hard to make him sick, he just ate after all, but enough to mark your point. 

“That’s for my bread!” You laughed, dodging his hands trying to grasp yours to stop you from assaulting his abdomen. 

He finally got a grab of your wrists, joined them in one of his hands and attacked your sides with his free hand, poking to the right places to have you yelp and trash around. 

“Stop! Stop!” You shrieked, pulling on your arms to free them. 

“As you wish.” He grinned, opening his hand when you pulled with all your might, your elbows hitting your own abdomen and emptying your lungs from their precious air. 

You groaned for a few seconds, recovering from the blow sprawled over Wrecker’s chest unceremoniously. His laugh resonated through your body, the vibrations shaking your bones and making your teeth clash together. 

“Still wanna fight?” He teased, head lifted from the ground to meet your unimpressed gaze. 

“Enough for tonight.” Hunter cut you off as you opened your mouth to sass him back. 

Closing your mouth without another word, you rolled your eyes and got to your feet, following Wrecker inside the ship to retrieve an extra layer to keep you comfortable under the stars. 

You walked past Wrecker who stopped at the fresher, to enter the barracks to rummage under your pillow for Hunter’s top blacks he threw at you the night prior. 

He noticed that you often stole his blacks whenever you felt cold at night in the ship, sliding under the fabric only when you thought they were asleep. You always made sure to replace it before he woke up, always neatly folded like it never left. But he knew. Your scent lingered on the fabric, a fact you forgot to think about, not that he minded. After a couple of times, he started to simply throw the blacks at your face before laying down on his bed. He knew you never got used to the cold of space, your skin remembering the constant warmth of the jungle, letting you vulnerable to any change of temperature. 

You slipped the blacks over your head, the fabric covering your three-quarter sleeve shirt without a hitch and offering you the extra warmth needed for you to be able to find sleep instead of chattering teeth for the whole night. 

Now ready to go out and bury yourself under your blanket near the fire, you walked out with a pep in your step, eager to lay down and relax for the remaining hours before a new assignment arrived and forced you all away on some dangerous mission. 

“Acceptin’ the markin’?” Wrecker appeared from the fresher, wiping his hands on his pants. 

“What?” You stopped, confused at his question. Did you have ink on your face or something? 

“He means this.” Crosshair answered for his brother, walking further into the ship to pinch the shoulder of the blacks on his way to his bunk where he retrieved an extra blanket for himself. 

“What about it?" 

"You’re only wearin’ Hunter’s.” He remarked, toothpick dancing between his lips. 

“Wrecker’s are way too big and you’d strangle me with the sleeves if I took yours.” You pointed out, a hand moving to your hip. What was his point?

“Why not Tech’s?” He approached closer, clearly trying to intimidate you. It may have worked in the beginning but this era was long gone. 

“Last time I did he started hiding them so I wouldn’t do it again. What is this about?” The two of them shared a look and you knew they had information you didn’t, and the mere idea of it made your heart speed up a bit. 

“It wasn’t Tech who hid them.” Crosshair faced you again, his arms crossing at his chest, the blanket folded over one of his arms. “It was Hunter." 

It took you seconds to connect the dot and make sense of everything. Hunter started throwing you his blacks the night after you borrowed Tech’s and after that, you couldn’t find his anywhere again. You’d accepted the gesture and never questioned it afterward, simply thinking that he cared about your sleeping habits or something. 

He did care. But for a _totally_ different reason. 

"He’s jealous.” You whispered, eyes widening to Crosshair’s delight. 

At the back of your mind, a part of you was melting, the sergeant’s possessiveness flattering you to no end, although another part of you found it was stupid to be jealous of his brother. You noted to talk to him about that later, but you were sure that the subject would arise rather sooner than later if the mischievous glint in the sniper’s eyes was anything to go by. 

“He is. So you’ll wear this instead.” He took a top of his blacks from within the blanket and shoved it onto your chest until you picked it up. 

“Your blacks? Wait. Are you angry at him or somethin’?” You eyed the fabric in your hands, rolling the hem between your fingers. This wasn’t a good idea. There were ulterior motives to his actions. Always. 

“Just wanna see him boilin’.” He replied, rolling his head on the side a bit. 

“You wanna call him on his bullshit.” You pointed out, one eyebrow slowly lifting in the air, unimpressed.

He didn’t respond but his smirk told you enough, and the longer he held your gaze, the wider the grin creeping its way onto your lips became. Yes, you had feelings for the dark-haired clone, but you were fundamentally a prankster. Always in for a good laugh. Plus, what problems can a shirt do? It’s a shirt!

You removed Hunter’s blacks, keeping a hold of your undershirt so you wouldn’t show too much to your brothers and quickly slipped into the new shirt. Sadly, the sleeves were a bit tight so you had to adjust your undershirt sleeves but you manage to replace them easily. 

You rolled Hunter’s black into a ball and throw it onto your bed. 

“Don’t be mean.” You threatened Crosshair with a finger under his chin.

“And you don’t drool all over it.” He took his toothpick from his lips to poke your fingers with it. You hissed and he threw it away. 

You walked out with Cross at your side, Wrecker choosing to walk before you so you would all be close enough to see the shift in Hunter’s expression. If the boys were right, that is. 

Unfortunately, Hunter seemed too engrossed in his conversation with Tech to notice your shirt so as soon as you all sat onto your respective blankets, yours placed between Wrecker’s and Tech’s, you leaned slightly forward toward Crosshair. 

“Thanks for the shirt Cross!” You smiled at him. 

In the corner of your eyes, you noticed Hunter straighten, head moving to you despite Tech still addressing him. Cross grunted in acknowledgment, already watching Hunter and was clearly enjoying what he saw. 

Your eyes moved to the sergeant’s, who was now deeply frowning, too concentrated on analyzing your shirt that he didn’t notice the four pairs of eyes scrutinizing his face, three playful, one confused. 

“What’s wrong?” Tech asked, head-turning to you to see what disturbed him that much. As soon as his eyes fell on you he knew. And you felt stupid for being the last one to notice that this was happening. “Ah.” That you’ve been stupid enough to let yourself fall into a territorial fight. 

“Not to your liking, Sarge?” Crosshair sassed, enjoying the tightness in his brother’s jaw.

You started to feal really bad. And confused. Was Crosshair really interested in you too? You knew Hunter cared about you, the kisses, the hugs, the moments of vulnerability shared with one another, they all told you that you meant something more. But Crosshair’s behavior really started to contradict _everything_ you thought you knew about him.

“What’s that?” He turned to confront his brother, catching on to the fact that he’d been played as soon as he registered the smugness coating Crosshair’s face. 

“Cut the crap. ’s just a shirt.” He rolled his eyes at Hunter’s barely concealed annoyance. But it wasn’t _just a shirt_. Not to them. 

It started to dawn on you that this was a terrible idea and that you’ve been played and that- oh shit Hunter’s fingers closed to form a fist entangled in his blanket.

“Stop right there.” You hurried to cut Hunter’s words that you just knew would start a bickering war. You had to stop it before it could deteriorate to something bad because you didn’t trust Crosshair to _not_ put oil on the fire and hit every single one of his brother’s nerves. To top it all, he was the one right next to Hunter. This was getting dangerous.

“ ’m not wearin’ anyone’s shirt." 

You removed the blacks, ignoring the concert of grumbles telling you not to, rolled it in a ball, switched the ball with Tech’s and used it as your personal pillow. You laid down on your back and pulled the blanket tightly around yourself, eying the stars above like you used to on Fors. 

You seemed to have done the right thing, because the rest followed your example, Tech’s head burying itself in his new pillow inches from yours. A yelp from Crosshair soon followed by a smack in retaliation made you sigh, effectively cutting short their childish behaviors. 

It took a couple of minutes until the sergeant heard what he was waiting for, a soft clattering muffled by the blanket covering your mouth, the sound of your hands moving up and down your arms in hope of creating warmth and your irregular breathing that you controlled enough to keep it down but not enough to keep it steady. 

The boys had fallen asleep, Wrecker’s snores echoing between the trees around, Crosshair’s and Tech’s soft regular breathings were easy to distinguish. 

"Y/N.” He called softly to not wake his brothers, his eyes already on your subtly shaking form. “I know you’re cold." 

You turned your head in his direction, frowning. 

"So? I won’t get the shirt back on.” You whispered, gaze moving to Tech to make sure he was still sleeping. 

“Good. C'mere.” He lifted the corner of his blanket, to which you raised an eyebrow. 

“Sharing your blanket to prove yourself better, now?" 

"Just…” He pointed to the spot next to him with his head. “C'mere." 

You huffed while sitting up to look around, the three remaining clones were still out, their peaceful face illuminated by the dying fire in the center of your circle. Carefully, you got up with the fabric tightly wrapped around your shoulders, stepping over Tech’s hand and reached the offered spot. 

Immediately you felt the warmth radiating off him and like a moth to a flame, you wrapped yourself around him without shame because you _needed_ this. And because it was so unfair that he could regulate his temperature while you couldn’t, so you decided that he had to share. 

Clearly, he didn’t mind, his arms sneaking around your waist to keep you close and offer you more of his body heat, his head leaning down a bit to breathe in your bewitching smell and place a kiss onto your hair just as you snuggled closer and leaned your head onto his chest, one of your legs sneaking between his to get more comfortable. 

"Better?” His chest rose and downed slowly, unlike the beating of his heart beneath your fingertips. This was the first time you had this much contact with each other, the feeling not lost on either of you. 

“Yeah.” You moved your head to place a kiss under his jaw and reposition yourself. “Didn’t know he even liked me.” You whispered, finger moving in circles over his heart, asking yourself _how_ did this happen?

“He liked you after our first time on Fors. He was a goner after the second time.” He explained truthfully, the memory of the second trip onto this godforsaken planet made him shiver in dread. How people could live in this hell was beyond his comprehension. 

You noticed his reaction and automatically reached up to dissipate the trauma with a slow movement of your fingers over his cheeks. 

“But I was there first.” He smirked, arms tightening around you somewhat. 

“Don’t start.” You smacked his chest softly to which he quietly laughed.

–

 _Frangin_ = Brother


	2. A Story of Having Each Others Back

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Follow right after A Story of Shirts.

The fog was so thick he couldn’t see where the ramp of the ship finished and where the grass started, even from his vantage point from the top of said ramp. He lingered in the entrance of the ship, shoulder leaning on the frame, a leg crossed over the other. The humidity was refreshing on his face, calming his overworking mind, washing away the worries of the war, the dread of the loss, and the uncertainty of tomorrow.

It was calm for once, there was no one around to push him playfully hard into a wall or assault his ears with some unneeded tsunami of information or make him feel like a kid under the careful eye of an adult. He was finally able to release the tension building in his muscles and relax, enjoy some me-time while it lasted. 

Or so he thought. 

“Cross, I’m cold.” Your melodious whine alerted him of your presence, mere seconds before delicate fingers slipped under the hem of his blacks to toy with the fabric, your knuckles creating a trail of fire where it grazed the skin. 

The fire of your touch burned his insecurities, hushed the whispers of his demons, and most of all, melted the thick walls shielding his heart. He made them indestructible. You made them malleable. 

He chuckled at your antics, the time when he was surprised that a strong warrior like you could become such a cuddly and adorable woman whenever the ambient temperature was not hotter than your body was long gone. He’d noticed pretty quickly that you had a really low tolerance to lower temperature. 

He’d done nothing at first, merely watched you shiver from time to time, enduring your predicament without saying a word. He saw you pass your hands over yours arms more than once, but all he could do was weigh the pros and cons of helping you out of your misery. 

Because if he did, he’d let it know that he cared. And Crosshair didn’t care. Not for anyone other than his brothers. They were family. They were loyal. They were everything. 

But you were special. Caring. True. Sassy. Loyal. You were the newest member of this freak family and you deserved to be helped if only to pay you back from everything you did for them. For him. 

So he’d decided that he would cover you in all the warmth he could offer. 

More fingers slipped under the hem, tentatively lifting the fabric over his abdomen, intensifying the fire with the full-on skin contact. He could almost feel your body inches away from his back, close but not enough in his books. 

“Think you can have this?” He chuckled as he got back on his two feet to turn around and meet your sheepish gaze. He had to suppress a shiver at the softness of your fingers moving over his middle and lower back as he turned over. 

“Please Crosshair.” You begged with a dangerous fake pout, bottom lip poking out slightly. 

He wouldn’t admit it, but he liked it when you begged. Not that you did that often. In fact, he only heard you beg once in the year you passed at their side. Needless to say that the situation was far from the one at hand, but it wrapped up his heart with the very same warmth. 

“Your wish is my command.” His finger reached for the wood stick from between his lips, threw it away into the depth of the fog to swiftly remove his top, exposing his skin to the chilly air. At the sudden change, goosebumps appeared on his arms, but he didn’t care. He didn’t feel them. 

All he could do was admire the joy in your eyes and the excitement as you pulled the oversized shirt on, the extra length hiding not only your black shirt but the hem of your exquisitely short shorts too. 

“Thanks.” You smiled brightly, eyes solely focussed on him. 

Even upside down, dangling meters in the air and prey to a carnivorous plant, Crosshair knew that you were a beautiful woman and that your beauty wouldn’t lessen even covered in mud from head to toe. That smile was too damn captivating. It was too damn bright.

In the same chain of thought, nothing could be added to you and make you more beautiful. You were already perfection. But seeing you in his shirt turned everything upside down. 

He’d been wrong for so long and on so many things. 

All of his dark thoughts and low expectations caused him to repress his feelings, leaving you to think that he saw you as distracting and insignificant. 

Leaving you to give him space because you thought he wanted it when all he really wanted was for you to be part of his bubble. Leaving the path open for his brother to get involved with you without saying anything. It was slow, a pace that suited the both of you, but was way too fast for him to come to terms with his own feelings. 

“But Hunter’s not here.” Your cool hands found his naked waist, thumbs discovering the scars there with an utterly careful touch. He dropped the fact that you seemed to read his mind, focussing on the only thing he could think of. 

“You look like a goddess in that.” He groaned, head lowering to the perfect column of your throat.

He inhaled your enrapturing smell, his eyes closing to lose himself in the moment. 

“And you’re so handsome without it.” You whispered as shakily as your fingers on his sides. 

He decided to allow himself this one time of carelessness. Before everything came crashing down. 

Your hands gripped his sides tighter as he nibbled at the skin, triggering a memory of your arms tightly enveloping him in their secure embrace. Of a time when he could feel the warmth of your own soul through the cage, calling out to his, but this time there was no fear. Only care. 

“I’ve got you Cross.” Your voice echoed through his mind, distant, words from a distant memory. “I’ve got you." 

"I’ve got you.” He whispered against your sensitive skin, repeating the words that rang through his mind every time his gaze found yours. 

His lips moved up your jaw to meet yours and as always, the contact was tasteless, devoid of any spark that he couldn’t possibly create in the abyss of his mind. But he would take it if it meant that he could maintain the dream going. If for once he wasn’t second. If he wasn’t the one who took too long into accepting his feelings. 

But he was. And the truth slapped him hard in the face when you bit his bottom lip, jolting his mind out of his dream and into the harsh world where the first rays of the sun illuminated your empty makeshift bed. 

Immediately, Crosshair shot up, eyes scanning around until he noticed your body pressed to Hunter’s, one of your hands gripping tightly around his shirt as if we would disappear. 

Betrayal flooded his veins and he hated the feeling as much as he hated himself at this moment. He didn’t have any reason to hold this against you. You never led him on, only complying to his silence when he’d ignore you and not force your company on him. 

He wasn’t even sure you were aware of his feelings until the night prior when the realization hit you like a speeder after his jealousy finally pierced his walls and controlled his judgment, forcing you in a bad position between him and his brother. He felt bad for tricking you of the sort, but he could never regret it. Finally, he saw you wearing something of _his_. It was one of his biggest achievement if he was honest. And most satisfying one for sure.

He got up, unable to watch any longer. As he passed, a whisper escaped your lips, your eyes were still closed, hand clutching tighter around the fabric prisoner of your grip. 

“I’ve got you Cross.” Your face scrunched up in discomfort pulling at his heartstrings. 

He walked away despite his body aching to wake you up, to comfort you that he was still there and assure you that _they_ were _not_. 

________________

He was childish, he knew it, but his heart squeezed every time his eyes met yours. He avoided you as much as possible, not that it was difficult since you were stuck in your pilot seat, deeply concentrated on landing in a warzone deep into enemy territory and he was with the others, verifying their equipment one last time before the action began. 

“Don’t act like a kicked puppy. You made this.” Crosshair rolled his eyes beneath his helmet, not moving an inch at Hunter’s remark in the private line. “She likes you too, idiot. For a sniper you’re unbelievably blind." 

"Get your head in the game.” He grumbled under his breath as you started your countdown until your quick landing. 

He didn’t want to acknowledge his sergeant’s comment, but he deeply hoped that he was right. After all, the grey-haired clone had been wrong about you before. One last time wouldn’t hurt. 

_______________

While offering cover fire to his brothers, Crosshair decided that he’d stop being an ass and talk to you. His life didn’t allow him the luxury to be dithering. He had to clear up everything and to do so, he needed to corner you alone. He thought it would have been easy, you tried to talk to him all day so all he had to do was wait for you to come to him. But it didn’t happen. 

After sending the ship into hyperspace, you fussed over the injuries on Wrecker’s arms all the while berating him for being so reckless, forced Tech to drop his work on the new prototype that needed adjustments to force him to get some rest, and finally, you cleaned up after the mess they created at the back of the ship.

He watched you move around, picking up abandoned backpacks, open medkits, and bloody gauzes, his determination deflating with each passing second. 

Before he knew it, you returned hastily to the cockpit to jump out of hyperspace and make your way to the republican planet. 

You’d learned so quickly how to maneuver the ship, he sometimes forgot that you joined their team only a year ago. Although he did remember clearly the time when you weren’t around; when the same routine would play over and over again without failing like a very boring record. You’d broken that record without a problem, adding your touch here and there, keeping them organized, making sure that they got their well-needed rest, reducing the tension with your harmless pranks and stupid jokes. He always loved his silence, but he’d never return to a time where you weren’t there.

“You should go sleep.” You mumbled, stretching until your bones popped. It was only then that he noticed how tired you seemed.

His hand shot out to your wrist when you made your way to the fresher.

“You’re having nightmares again.”

“No.” You frowned on the defensive, pulling your hand out of his wrist, hurting his feelings by doing so. 

As his teeth gnashed together, he was glad he didn’t have a toothpick between them as usual. It would definitely have broken under the pressure. 

“Bad liar.” He turned around, knowing that if you weren’t able to trust him with your nightmares, then there was no way what Hunter told him was true. 

He himself wasn’t the one so blinded with love that he started seeing it everywhere. He wasn’t the one with whom you’d share your secrets or the one who knew the taste of your lips or the one to get to see you parade in his shirts before bed or the one to get to sleep next-

Too engrossed in his spiraling thoughts, Crosshair didn’t think when his shirt got pulled. His hand moved on its own, too used to deal with Wrecker’s annoying habit of trying to lift him by the back of his blacks. With a sharp slap, Crosshair successfully removed the hand gripping his shirt. 

Before he even heard your yelp of pain, his brain made the connection. He turned around, eyes wide in surprise at his own attack, remorse flooding his chest. 

He saw the pain in your eyes as well as the tears gathering in them. With your hands to your chest, you backed away in the fresher and locked the door before he even found his voice to apologize. 

A lump formed in his throat, still not entirely comprehending what had happened, how he could have possibly let his jealousy blind him. 

Again. 

With tight fists at his sides, Crosshair made his way to the only place he could go. To bed. He made a quick job of climbing to the bunk over his sergeant’s, making sure to repress his urges to _accidently_ kick him in the sides and laid there over the covers, eying the ceiling, fists opening and closing around nothing. 

He wanted to yell, kick, punch, shoot, get it out of his system, but all he could do was staying still, muscles stiff enough to hurt. 

It took a while, but you walked out of the fresher, your light footsteps making their way to the barracks. He almost assumed you’d push Hunter over and cuddle close to him for security and comfort. He didn’t anticipate at all the pull on his sheets. 

Just to be sure that he wasn’t hallucinating, he waited until you did it again before leaning over the edge. He couldn’t see your eyes in the almost complete darkness, but he knew you could see him clearly. 

“I hear them in my dreams.” You paused, head moving towards the door. “And sometimes I can still see the Algax around the corners.” He couldn’t see you shiver, but the wave in your voice was clear enough. You were scared. 

“Jump up.” He didn’t lose a second to move aside to make you some room. 

He pulled the covers aside before you fully laid down on the mattress, enveloping your body in its safe embrace as soon as you stayed still on your side. 

He hated the fact that he couldn’t see your face and read your emotions. Or that he couldn’t erase their memory of your mind. The silence grew longer and longer until finally, he had enough. 

“I’m sorry for hurting you. It wasn’t- I never-” He grunted in exasperation when words failed him. 

“I’ll forgive you if you hold me.” He didn’t lose a second at your weak voice, slipping under the cover to pull you close into his chest. 

“I’ve got you.” He kissed the top of your head as your body started shivering, from fear or cold, he wasn’t sure. Probably both. 

He gripped your waist and carefully flipped you around to switch places, putting your back to the wall instead of the black void, hoping that it would give you some reassurance. Instead, you merely hid in his chest. 

His fingers combed through your hair, waiting patiently for you to either fall asleep or say something. 

“Thank you.” He almost missed it, the words muffled by his clothed chest. 

“No need to." 

"I do. You didn’t have to.” Your face separated from his torso, to peer at his eyes. 

He felt your hand moving from around his waist to make its way up, towards your face. His breath caught in his throat at the contact of your fingers barely touching his cheek, the very first loving contact you blessed him with. 

“I wanted to.” He whispered back, hopeful that you’d get his intention so he didn’t have to voice them. 

“I’m glad.” Your chilly palm rested fully on his cheek, relaxing his muscles despite accelerating his heartbeat. “On our next leave maybe we can go hang out together? Just the two of us?” You silently offered. 

“I’d like that." 

Biggest understatement of the millennia. He was delighted that you’d caught on his unsaid feelings and offered him some time alone with you. 

As soon as your hand left his cheek he felt cold, already missing your touch. 

"Goodnight Cross.” Your hot breath passed through his blacks to tickle the skin beneath. You moved your arms back to your chest, forehead on his sternum. 

He waited for a second, savoring the feeling of your _real_ body cuddled against him. It felt even better than he imagined. 

“Night." 

He made sure to fall asleep after you, waiting until your breathing evened out before even thinking of drifting off. One last time he stroked your cheek, his movement as delicate as he could to not wake you up. 

He let himself relax, a hit of a smile stretching his lips at the thought of going on a date with you sooner rather than later.

Maybe being second wasn’t all that bad.


	3. A Story of Being Idiots

“One of you will get hurt at some point." 

Tech’s grumble did little to nothing to stop you and Wrecker from wrestling. The difference of strength was irrelevant here, you didn’t care for the copious amount of time he easily pushed you to the ground. What you did care about was that none of you managed to throw the other down the ramp yet. 

The game was simple. The one to tumble down the flight of stairs lose. 

Now, Wrecker thought it was an easy win. Just like Crosshair and Tech did. But you had an advantage. You were a stubborn son of a bitch that liked to win against her loud bubbly brother. Plus, Hunter wasn’t there yet to put an end to your game. 

You loved your brother. But as everyone knows, love hurts. And he’d be the one flying down the stairs on his ass. 

You fought against his arms trying to get a hold of yours to keep you from grabbing the door frame again. With a knee to the stomach, you kept your arms free. You almost win with your signature kick behind the knee and a push forward, but Hunter definitely chose this moment to make his way up the ramp and put an end to your fun. 

"What the hell is going on here?" 

You abruptly stopped your movement to push the big guy out of the ship, the idea of getting Hunter down the stairs with his brother wasn’t one to entertain. You’d be in so much trouble that even your imploring eyes, pouty lips, and apologetic kisses would not be enough to help. 

"Just some harmless sibling bonding, that’s all.” You replied with your best innocent smile. You hoped he hadn’t noticed the crates Wrecker and you were supposed to load into the ship instead of messing around. 

“I said no hitting your teammates.” He crossed his arms over his chest, moving his unappreciative gaze from yours to Wrecker’s. 

“But it’s no hitting. It’s just pushing.” You countered as Wrecker got up from his position on the floor. 

It was a lie. You clearly hit Wrecker a couple of times, simply because you knew that your fists couldn’t hurt him in the slightest. You’d never be able to bruise his skin so why would the rule apply to you? Oh right. Wrecker loved to follow the law of retaliation. 

“Game’s over.” He lifted his finger to point at the two of you. “No more pushing around like kids." 

Wrecker diligently obeyed like the good soldier he was deep down and walked away to find a new occupation, but you weren’t. 

Hunter’s eyes reduced to slits when you rolled your eyes, fingers twitching around the bag loop in his hand. You knew he hated your eye rolls at his expense, the harsh kisses and lip biting that usually followed were enough of an indication. You loved the intense make out as much as he hated the annoyed movement so he was at a disadvantage. 

He tried denying you the contact of his lips for a while, saying that brats didn’t deserve his kisses, to which you answered with an eye roll. His resolution lasted for 2 days only. After 13 eye rolls from your part, he’d had enough. You were clearly doing it more often on purpose and it worked, you got to taste the caf he was previously drinking from the soft skin of his lips, and even got some of the hottest sounds you’ve heard from him up to this date. 

The bag loop fell from his shoulder so he could not so gently put the bag on the nearest counter and pull you behind him to the cockpit, as far away from the rest of the troopers as possible. 

Crosshair stayed silent while Tech sighed because he knew his cockpit would not be as organized as it was when his big brother was done with you. Just before the door closed behind you, Wrecker cheered at you to get some just before an excited squeal for hot food escaped his mouth. 

"You got food from the village?” You asked excitedly. Finally, a nice meal that wasn’t the usual tasteless military rations. 

“Not for brats.” He pushed you against the door, arms at each side of your head to effectively trap you. 

His face lowered to yours in a heartbeat, lips clashing in frustration and hunger. You eagerly accepted every ounce of irritation towards you, moaning slightly as his tongue entered your mouth to express his dominance. It was useless to fight him, his sharp senses deciphered every one of your weak spots that he could use at will to make you putty between his fingers. 

Calloused fingers reached your hips to move upwards, slipping under your shirt to dig into the flesh of your sides. The circles drawn onto the skin right under your ribs were blissful, almost causing you to shudder under his fingertips. 

Clothes have never been shed before and now wasn’t the moment to start, but hands slipping under each other’s shirts to feel the warm skin beneath has become a more common occurrence lately, after the bed-sharing.

It wasn’t by territoriality or jealousy, it has come to your understanding that Hunter was fine with the fact that Crosshair was interested in a relationship with you, he simply didn’t want to be tossed aside or forgotten. No, the touches were simply the next step in your agreed rhythm, slowly building towards more physical contact without jumping into the other’s pants right away. 

The hands massaging your sides moved to your ass, the quick squeeze of his fingers telling you to jump without him having to separate his mouth from yours. 

Your fingers pulled at the hair on his neck, the newfound friction provided by his codpiece was too much for you to stay still. He grunted almost painfully, fully aware of the effect he had on your lower parts, the smells and touches and sounds all making him dizzy with lust. 

But now wasn’t the time. His mouth unlatched from yours, allowing your head to fall back against the door for him to lick and kiss at your throat. He visited every spot that made you breathless, enjoying the feeling of your shaking flesh under his tongue while he could still take it. 

Soon he reached his point of no return and forced himself away from your skin, fingers gripping your hips under the effort. His face fell on your shoulder to calm his breathing, concentrating on your fingers slipping through his strands slowly, careful to not pull so you wouldn’t accidentally revive the dying fire in his lower abdomen. 

He pulled away to meet your eyes, his pupils were dilated, almost consuming all of the gorgeous brown rings that you loved to admire. He didn’t have to talk, his orbs were telling enough and you were sure yours were just as revealing. 

You fell for that man and he fell for you just as much. 

Your forehead moved to his, both your breath mending together. A smile pulled at your lips at something hitting the door behind you, the vibrations passing from the door to your back. 

“Stop eating each other’s faces. Lunch’s served.” You weren’t surprised at Crosshair’s annoyance. You knew the sniper was eagerly waiting for his turn to assault your lips. Apparently, he got addicted pretty quickly. 

“Not hungry for food.” He whispered, eyes glued to your lips once again.

“But I am.” You pushed against his chest after pecking his lips one last time. He followed your mouth, but you didn’t have any of it.

Back on your own feet, you passed a hand through your hair while another pair of hands straightened your shirt. 

Hunter opened the door and with a last kiss, you made your way to the back of the ship.

“I hope it’s not too much of a battlefield in there.” Tech seemed really unamused, poking at his plate when you entered the room.

“You’ll have fun cleaning everything up later.” You snickered at his horrified look. This time nothing was out of place, so you could tease him. 

You took the seat right next to him and right in front of Wrecker who pushed a plate of vegetables with some brown cereal and a slice of unknown meat before you. It looked as delicious as it smelled. 

You immediately thanked him, not losing a second to feed the savory nutrients to your starving stomach. 

Hunter seated himself at his brother’s side, leaving only Tech and yourself on your side of the table. 

“Need a drink?” Wrecker got up from his seat, stopping long enough to get your answer. 

With your full appreciation, you nodded to your big brother who got onto his feet to get bottles in the supply crates that were yet to be loaded onto the ship, thanks to two easily distractible soldiers. 

Your heart stopped as you saw him trip on his feet and fall down the ramp, painful yelps filling the common area of the ship. The rest of the oblivious boys jumped in their seat, not at the ruckus of their brother hitting the stairs in quick succession, but at your sudden victory cry. 

Laughing hard, you fell down your chair to clasp at your sides, leaving the rest of them to comprehend what actually happened by themselves. 

Soon you were a laughing, crying, breathless mess on the floor of the Marauder, totally unable to answer Tech’s questions as Wrecker’s low whines reached your ears, fuelling your laughter for another couple of minutes. 

You won.


	4. A story of freezing cold and scorching heat

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Generously brought to you by my baby of 6 years that offered me roses, cookie dough, ice cream and a romantic dinner. To all those missing such a loveable man/woman, please have this piece of fluff to keep you warm 💜
> 
> Happy Valentine's Day!

"Are you serious right now?" The only answer you got was a snicker from the other side of the door. "Wrecker I swear! If there's only cold water when it's my turn, I'll eat all your secret stash of cookies!" 

"You wouldn't dare!" He yelled, slight panic wrapping his words. 

"Don't challenge me." You crossed your arms on your chest even though he couldn't see you from his spot in the shower. 

A silence passed before he tried to hit you under the belt. 

"You wouldn't because then you'd be fat." 

You rolled your eyes at his poor attempt. You knew his stash had a big total of two and a half boxes of cookies, nothing to transform you into a Hutt even if you ate them all in one evening by yourself. Maybe you'd puke, but this wasn't the matter at hand. 

"Nooo because I'd share with everyone but you." You childishly replied, hoping that this would finally scare him enough to get him out of the shower and let you some hot water. 

"I'll hurt you." He threatened. 

"No you won't. One, because you're not like that, and two, because there's the 'no hurting your teammates rule'. Hunter would be really disappointed." You chuckled at his frustrated groan. 

More time passed and you had to hit the door a couple of more times to get a reaction. 

"Okay. I'm getting out." He said it so innocently, not at all defeated to have his pleasure ripped away from him. No, you weren't falling into that trap. 

"I'm not dumb Wreck. There's already no hot water left." 

The silence told you all you needed to know. 

"Cookies for me it is!" You yelled as you dashed to his bunk where he tried to hide his sweets in the empty grenade box he kept under his boxers. How you found his stash in the first place was a story for another time. 

As fast as lightning you ran out of the barracks to jump out of the Marauder just as Wrecker emerged from the fresher with only a towel around his waist, water still running down his bare torso. 

"They're mine!" He desperately yelled after you, not daring to follow, not when the ship was based on a snowy planet. 

"Wrong! They're mine now. Fairtrade for hot water must I say!" You bragged, stuffing one cookie into your mouth, ignoring the cold snaking its way into your clothes, and freezing over your feet in seconds. Damn you. Barrelling out without your boots. 

Your smile grew at his apparent anger that built at each chocolate cookie passing your lips. You were at your fourth when he snapped. 

"Fine! Hope you like the cold then!" He pressed the button to close the door and smirked as he watched you try to reach the ramp in time. 

"Wrecker!" You pounded on the door, already feeling your resolve crumble as shivers ran up your spine. You tried hitting the opening button from your side but it came without surprise that it didn't work. He had locked the commands from inside. "Open the door!" 

"No." 

"Please open the door!" Your feet were already tingling at this point. Cursing your low-temperature intolerance, you continued to hit the door with the bottom of your fist, the cookies still safely stacked under your left arm. "Wrecker, please!" 

You really were getting desperate fast whenever cold was involved. 

You stopped pounding at the lack of answer, instead leaning your head on the cold metal to hear his faint footsteps walking away. You yelled his name again but it quickly became evident that it was no use. 

Tech was aboard the ship but had plugs in his ears to muffle the sound of yours and Wrecker's singing earlier, and Maker knew that Tech could work on his prototypes and equipment enhancements for hours on end. He was the one that had the least chance to let you in. 

Then there was Hunter and Crosshair who went into the nearby village to get some medical supplies after someone used all the bandages to prank another someone by tying them to a chair in their sleep. 

They were gone for a while now, hopefully, they were on their way back and would make it before you froze to death. 

Resolved to your fate, you crouched in a tight ball under the ship where the wind was blocked by the big boulder nearby and munched on more cookies. If you were to die on a snowy planet, better be with your stomach full of sugar. 

You finished the already half-eaten box and used the cardboard to protect your feet a little of the snow by stepping on it. It didn't help much as your socks were already soaked but it did alleviate some of the cold. 

You had to admit, the cookies were delicious and you would have felt really bad for eating them without Wrecker if only he hadn't locked you out. 

Half a payback plan later, footsteps crunching on the snow reached your ears and you suddenly lifted your head to pinpoint the location of the newcomers. 

A yelped escaped your throat as you hurriedly jumped to your feet when your eyes found the two dark helmets walking your way, hitting your head on the underside of the ship. You winced, immediately returning into a fetal position to grad at your head, dropping the boxes to the ground. 

"What are you doing outside?" Hunter reached your position in a light run, his gloved hand reaching for your tingling cheek. 

"Wrecker locked me outside." You groaned, still massaging your scalp in hope that maybe the attention would appease the pain. 

"Because you ate his cookies?" Crosshair pushed the discarded container with the tip of his boot. 

"Ya. Because he used all the hot water." As the pain faded away, you lifted your head to meet their impassive helmets and offer a quivering smile to the two commandos. 

"Not again." The sergeant growled before passing his own supplies to Crosshair in favor to carry your shivering form in his arms to the ramp. 

With the push of a button on his vambrace, the door opened and in a second you were out of the biting cold and melting in your boyfriend's arms, warmth finally coming into contact with your skin. The relief was short-lived as the hot air worsened the tingling in your hands. You winced in silence, although it clearly didn't go unnoticed. 

"Cross," Hunter started as the sniper dropped the supplies on the nearby table, "cuddle duty. Gotta have a talk with Wrecker." 

"With pleasure." You chuckled as you were passed from one clone to the other like you were about to break. Well. Maybe you were. 

The 5 steps separating you from the barracks seemed endless now that you had the opportunity to cuddle with a sniper that radiated warmth as much as a high performing furnace. The best in the situation was that he couldn't deny your freezing hands and gods, they were ice cubes. 

You got carefully laid on your bunk in which you sighed because it was warmer than the cold composite armor that was pressed against you seconds ago. Your fingers gripped the covers thrown on top of you to pull them all the way to your nose, leaving your eyes out of your cocoon to admire the soldier stripping from his armor. 

A smirk stretched his lips as he caught you staring. He then proceeded to keep eye contact the whole time he removed the pieces of armor, trying to make you squirm under his gaze. 

It was something he did often now that you passed more time together and that he allowed you to be in his personal bubble more often. His new goal now that you were aware of his feelings was trying to make you blush and avert your eyes with a gaze that told you everything that passed through his head. And he had a really, really filthy head. 

Soon the heat on your cheeks was too much, prompting your fingers to pull the cover higher over your head to create a barrier between his heated thoughts and your fragile mental state. 

It took a bit more than 30 seconds for him to be in his blacks and slide under the covers to wrap his arms around your shoulders, pulling you to his comfortable chest. The abrupt change in temperature hurt for a couple of seconds but faded quickly in favor of a pleasant feeling of finally thawing onto this armless container of condensed fire. 

"You two really have to stop messing around." He whispered into your ear, causing a shiver to run up your spine. 

"He started first." You snuggled into his neck, careful to keep your hands off any patch of unprotected skin. You didn't want to bristle him with a sudden icy touch to the sensitive skin of his waist even though it was what you desired the most at the moment. 

"You're childish." He sighed into your hair, a small pressure onto the top of your scalp made you perk up in wonder. 

Your eyes met his, the dim light passing through the crack of the barely open door allowed him to find your gaze in the dark. A quick flicker of his eyes to your lips made you grin to cover up your accelerating heartbeat. 

"But you like it." You held his gaze this time, not flinching like your body wanted to. 

"Wrong." You frowned, genuinely confused and a bit hurt. "I love it." 

His fingers caressed your cheek and with a really slow movement, brought his face closer to yours. You had plenty of time to pull away or hide in his neck or pull the covers over your head but you didn't. You couldn't. Not when this was what you wanted for weeks now but was too coward to ask or initiate the move. 

His chapped lips met yours tentatively. It was a simple ghostly feeling like he still wasn't sure if this was fine until you reached for his cheek to pull him to you and the dam broke. 

You followed his rhythm, more than happy to follow his lead because you couldn't think at the moment. It was happening. You were kissing the grumpiest clone of the GAR and Maker does it felt good. 

It wasn't rushed, this first kiss was to be perfect, an exchange of silent words and repressed feelings that finally got to be acknowledged and heard. 

Reluctantly you pulled away to allow air in your lungs again, the lightness from the lack of oxygen mixed with the excitement of the moment left you drained. Your breath mended with his as he kept hovering over your face, following your lips when you finally let your tired body rest onto the pillow for support. 

He stayed close, merely an inch away, breathing in tandem with you until you captured his lips again in a more demanding rhythm that he happily obliged. This time you needed more and more you got. More pressure, more speed, more tongue. Although it was never practiced before, the kiss never became sloppy and you felt it, Crosshair was focussed on your own movements this time, adapting himself to your needs. 

Huffs escaped your lungs as you separated yourself from him to hide in the crook of his neck and calm yourself down in the safety of his arms. 

Unbeknownst to you, his hands had entangled themselves in your hair and your shirt, the hand on your lower back gripping the fabric to keep himself from going further. 

He rolled from his side to his back, pulling you with him. Your cheek rested right above his heart that was amazingly steady although a bit fast, nothing compared to your frenzy one. 

You moved slightly to put you more comfortable, one leg found its home between his and your left hand dared to reach for the hem of his shirt to touch the skin hidden under the layer. A kiss on the forehead along with the acceleration of his heartbeat pushed you to sneak your hand further up, palm fully touching the bottom of his ribs and thumb moving along the top of his abdomen. 

You thought he would hiss because of the difference of temperature that was still apparent but no. A sigh filled your ears and it almost made you sigh in turn, he really was warm and shit, these blacks were warmth blocking you!

"I've heard you talking to Tech a bit ago." You hummed as your brain tried to remember what you discussed with the engineer 'a bit ago' but couldn't remember. Hell, you talked so much with Tech that you couldn't tell what you talked about during lunch yesterday. 

"What about?" His hand in your hair moved from the back of your head to the space between your shoulder blade, right under the collar of your shirt as you did with his. 

"A holiday on your planet. One where lovers exchange gifts to express their feelings." Oooh.

"Valentine's day." You nodded, knowing where this was going. Could he really know that the V day was today? Did he consult Tech? 

"I got you something." He whispered like admitting this too loud was going to create a catastrophe. 

You whined as he slowly untangled himself from you, already missing the warmth and comfort of his slim body. 

"Won't be long." He chuckled while replacing a strand of hair behind your ear. 

"It's already too long." You pouted, hoping that your bottom lip poking out would make him stay. Your eyes saw the hesitation in his as he glanced at your mouth. You almost cheered, but then he turned away and exited the room. 

Huffing, you pulled the cover over your head to enjoy in the warmth left behind by his furnace of a body. 

Valentine's Day has never been a holiday that you liked very much, mainly because you were alone and seeing everyone around with their partner made you angry and envious. You tended to hide in your tiny house or pass the day roaming around the jungle, away from the affection that was never directed at you and all the words of love spoken with a passion that always made you ache. 

A forced cough caught your attention, breaking your dangerous train of thought. The light illuminating the room was totally unexpected, causing you to wince and squint your eyes to see what was happening. There before your bed stood Crosshair with three flowers in his hands, their blue petals faded into a soft white towards the middle. They looked almost made of snow and ice, their extremities catching the light to sparkle like tiny diamonds. 

"I know the holiday wants lovers to exchange red roses but there aren't any he-" 

You cut him off by jumping at his neck, hugging his body tightly as tears ran down your cheeks to wet his shirt. The hand not holding the flowers moved upwards to gently stroke your back. 

"I love them." You pull away, still crying but smiling brightly. 

In the snap of a finger, he became very serious, his eyes almost hard on you, although you came to read this expression as 'I'm not messing around right now so listen'. 

"I love you." 

And you knew he did. Crosshair wasn't a teller, he showed people how he felt. You're an ass? A punch in the face will do perfectly. Overconfident? He'll make you doubt yourself with a simple gaze. You mean the world? Suddenly you had a buddy to hear about your fears and nightmares, a steaming coffee was always ready for you whenever you woke up from a hard night, reassurances would be whispered in your ears when you started doubting yourself, you would always have someone to make you smile at the end of the day and many more good thing meant to make you feel valued, wanted, loved without even asking anything. Yes, Crosshair talked through actions and you noticed every single one of them. 

"And I love you too." Hands reached for his cheeks once again to stroke their skin while your lips met his in a new dance. 

Without watching, the sniper set the flowers on the nearby bed to return to the comfort of the covers where you passed the rest of the evening on cuddling duty, occasionally throwing some kisses into the job.


End file.
